


my taste in music is your face

by incognitajones



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Five-Minute Boyfriend, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 08:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6232468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incognitajones/pseuds/incognitajones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben went along with this silly plan because he wanted to make Hux’s life miserable (always a valid choice), but then he discovered how much this girl enjoys telling him how wrong his opinions about music are, and honestly he’s beginning to find it a huge turn-on.</p><p>Or, in which Rey is an insufferable musical hipster desperately in need of a five-minute boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my taste in music is your face

**Author's Note:**

> The “please pretend to be my significant other RIGHT NOW” modern!AU (think _Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist_) that no-one asked for, because I love that trope.

Rey had been looking forward to this night for weeks. 

Not only was her favorite band Starkiller coming to town, they were playing the local club just down the street, so she and her roommate Jessika could both go without one having to be the designated driver. Finn and Poe were joining them later; they’d mocked Rey for insisting on arriving two hours before the show started, but that way she was guaranteed the table closest to the stage. Rey left Jessika to hold down the fort, with a warning not to be lured away by any cute girls, and headed to the bar for the first round. She was already half-dancing with elation.

And then her stalker ex walked in. Rey caught sight of his distinctive pale red hair in the mirror behind the bar and shuddered. Her shoulders hunched up toward her ears and goosebumps swept over her body despite the overheated, sweaty air. 

Rey would be the first to admit she was impulsive, and still, what she did next was one of the least well-thought-out plans she’d ever come up with. But ever since she’d had to change her locks thanks to Hux, she couldn’t be rational about him any more. 

The guy waiting for his drink next to her was tall—intimidatingly tall—and his biceps were frankly excessive. She fisted one hand in his faded green t-shirt for leverage and pushed up on her toes to holler in his ear over the noise of the bar. “I know I’m a total stranger and this is gonna sound weird but would you please be my boyfriend for five minutes?”

“What?” 

He turned his head to look down at her. The chili pepper lights strung up behind the bar reflected in his brown eyes, giving them a faintly sinister red cast. Rey swallowed her panic and repeated herself, louder and more frantically, flicking her eyes back to the mirror. Hux was already halfway across the room, his head turning as he scanned the crowd.

The tall guy frowned and shook his head, long dark hair falling over his eyes. “Go away, little girl. This is not the romantic comedy you’re looking for.”

Rey was far past the point of desperation. “Please, please, just go with it for a second,” she begged. “I really want to see this band and Hux is going to ruin the whole night.”

“Are you talking about Brendan Huxley?” he interrupted. 

Rey scanned the mirror again. Shit, it looked like Hux had seen her. “Yes, and he’s headed over here right—”

Before she could finish he’d folded her in his arms, which were so long they nearly wrapped around her twice. “That guy is a complete and total douchebag. I’m in,” he said, lips grazing the curve of her ear. 

Rey sighed and rested her forehead on his broad chest, clutching at him like he was a lifeguard who’d just saved her from drowning. “Thank you so much. You won’t regret it.” She drew back and looked up at him with the most earnest gaze she could muster in hopes of seeming like an actual girlfriend. “Free drinks all night, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he muttered, before smiling broadly and tucking a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. She shivered as his fingers skimmed the side of her neck. “Here he comes.”

“Hi, Ben.” Hux’s nasal voice was suspicious. “I didn’t know you knew Rey.”

Ben (thank god, now she knew his name) turned as if surprised and gave a casual nod. “Hey, Hux. Yeah, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.” 

Rey admired Ben’s cleverness in not giving a specific date to be tripped up on. She nestled into his side, his arm curling around the bare skin of her shoulder, and smiled at Hux; she could afford to be civil to him now. 

“Really? You never mentioned it, Rey. How did you two meet?”

Ben coughed around a mouthful of beer and Rey was stranded on the spot, frantically trying to think of something, anything, that was even halfway plausible. Her gaze fell on a poster stuck to a pillar at the end of the bar and she blurted, “At the open mic night.” 

Oh, crapsticks. Why had she said that, of all possible things?

Ben swallowed his beer successfully and grinned down at her. “Yeah, her Fleetwood Mac cover was amazing.”

Rey’s eyes widened and she stomped on Ben’s foot. Unfortunately, his smile didn’t change—he was probably too big to feel it. “Ha ha, what a joker,” she intoned with deliberate exaggeration.

Hux looked from Rey to Ben, frowning, and Rey held her breath. 

At that moment the bartender saved her skin by dropping her order on the bartop. “Gotta bring Jess her drink. See you!” She grabbed the beers and fled, jerking her head at Ben and praying he’d follow.

 

Ben followed the girl because anything that made that ginger creep Hux miserable was a good idea. It had nothing to do with her green eyes, or the lean, tanned legs revealed by the floaty skirt of her sundress, because this Rey was clearly a few gears short of a transmission. 

She slipped through the crowd to a table a few feet from the stage, right on the edge of the dance floor, where two men and a woman were already sitting.

“Meet Jessika, Finn, and Poe,” Rey said, dragging over a chair for Ben and depositing a beer in front of the other girl. “Guys, this is Ben, he hates Hux too and he’s my fake boyfriend for the night.”

“For the night?” Ben felt he should register a protest. “You said five minutes.”

“You can’t leave yet! At least wait until Hux gets bored and takes off. Besides, I already offered you free drinks. Now you get to sit at the best table in the house too.” Rey swept her arm grandly to show off and nearly knocked over her friend’s beer.

Ben sighed, wishing he hadn’t succumbed to a moment of chivalry. He’d wondered if Rey’s peremptory demand was her idea of a flirting technique, but the odds of that were shrinking. “Why didn’t you draft one of these guys as your emergency date?”

“We’re together,” Poe said, lifting his right hand above the table to show it was clasping Finn’s left. “Hux knows that.”

“And what was so bad about telling him I liked your singing?”

Rey flushed, highlighting the damp curls already springing out of her braid and sticking to her skin in the heat. “I can’t sing. As in, physically incapable.”

Finn laughed. “She loves music but she can’t carry a tune in a bucket. It’s actually kind of tragic.”

“I’m telling you, Rey, Hux was a sign you should give up on men,” Jessika said. “Women are statistically far less likely to be stalkers.”

“Like you’ve never had a psycho ex-girlfriend?” Rey scoffed. “Try again, Jess.” 

Jess leaned forward over the table and eyed Ben. “How do you know Hux, anyway?” 

“We go to the same dojo,” Ben said. 

“No way! I used to go there.” Rey smacked Ben on the arm, hard, to express her wonder. “Hux ruined that place for me too, actually,” she said glumly. She shook her head, brushing it off, and tried to brighten her voice. “So how come we never met there?”

“I work weird hours and avoid Hux as much as humanly possible.” Ben shrugged. “He’s not likely to see me often enough to figure out this was phony. But if I run into him, I’ll cover for you.”

A heavy guitar chord reverberated through the monitors and a cheer went up from the crowd. Rey sat bolt upright in her chair, eyes riveted on the stage. “Shut up, you guys!” 

She was definitely one of the biggest fans in the room. As soon as Starkiller kicked off their first song, she ignored everyone at the table in favour of drinking in the sound, mouthing along to the words, and swaying in her chair. The thin strap of her sundress slipped down one tanned shoulder, and she tugged it back up without looking away from the band. 

Ben didn’t mind evading Rey’s single-minded focus for a while; the intensity she brought to everything was a little unsettling. And her friends were easy to talk to. He bonded with Jessika over watching the tall blonde lead singer seduce the crowd, and discovered a mutual love of martial arts movies with Finn.

Rey’s attention returned when the band took a break. Ben felt someone watching and looked away from debating Finn about whether _The Matrix_ had ruined fight scenes to find her gaze focused on him. 

“So, Ben, what kind of music are you into?” she asked casually.

“Don’t answer!” 

“It’s a trap!”

But Poe and Jessika’s warnings came too late to save him. 

“Um, mostly singer-songwriter stuff I guess. Bon Iver, Iron and Wine.”

“Oh boy.” Rey’s eyes widened. “Are you one of those misogynistic assholes who thinks Ryan Adams’ version of _1989_ is better than the original?” 

Ben reared back, insulted. “It is! Sure, her songwriting’s good, but the production is so slick and soulless. Objectively speaking—”

“There is no such thing as objectivity in music.” Rey thumped her bottle on the table in time with each word for emphasis.

Ben stared at her in disbelief. How could she be so self-assured, and so _wrong_? “That’s not true. A note is objectively off-key or on.”

“Yeah, but which version sounds better depends on the listener. You probably like Leonard Cohen too, right?”

“Is that a trick question?” Ben asked suspiciously. “Who doesn’t? He’s a genius.”

“Yeah, a genius who sings consistently flat. Objectively speaking, anyone else performs his music better, but you prefer him because of your emotional response. That’s the dictionary definition of subjective!” Rey threw her hands in the air triumphantly, as though she’d just scored a touchdown.

Ben was starting to worry she might knock over the table, and everyone’s drinks, if she got any more vehement. But before she worked up to another crescendo, the lights went down and the swelling crowd on the dance floor cheered as the band came back on stage. 

Jessika sighed as the lead singer stripped down to a white tank top that showed off her sleek, muscled shoulders. “Do you think she likes femme Air Force pilots?” she asked hopefully. 

“Only one way to find out,” Rey said. “Come on, I’ll dance with you and make you look hot.”

“Fuck you, I always look hot,” Jessika shot back, but stood up. 

Rey looked over her shoulder and held out a hand to Ben, but he shook his head. He was still a little dazed from the rapid U-turns in their conversation, and needed a moment to recalibrate whether he was more annoyed or turned on. 

“Is she always like that?” he asked Finn and Poe. 

“Pretty much,” Finn said, laughing. “Rey goes from zero to sixty faster than anyone else I know.”

“How the hell did she ever wind up with Hux?” Ben shook his head. “She clearly has shit taste in men.” 

Poe grinned. “You realize you’re also insulting yourself.”

“This doesn’t count,” Ben said. “I was just the closest warm body.” He told himself it wasn’t disappointment he felt, only disappoval of Rey's poor romantic choices.

He looked back toward the stage and watched Rey and Jessika grind on each other in a swaying, laughing tangle of limbs. A flash of red hair caught his eye and he scanned the crowd to see Hux standing at the edge of the dance floor, fixated on the girls’ playfully lewd dancing with laser intensity.

Ben leaned forward, frowning. Hux had a temper and sometimes let it go too far in the dojo, but had never directed more than nasty comments at Ben. He didn’t know whether the guy would try to physically harm anyone. But Hux started shoving through the sweaty, heaving crowd and Ben got up from his chair. He wasn’t going to wait to find out.

Pushing through the mass of people was more difficult for someone Ben’s size. Even though he had a shorter distance to cover, he couldn’t make it in time to cut Hux off from the two women. 

The agitated redhead grabbed Rey’s arm and yanked her away from Jessika. “You’re such a slut, Rey!” he shouted, spittle flying. “You couldn’t even wait for the bed to get cold before you started screwing that loser Ben and now what? Giving a ride to this dy—”

“Shut your mouth!” Rey pushed her face into Hux’s and yelled. “You don’t talk to her like that!”

The nearest dancers, wanting to stay uninvolved from apathy or fear, were melting out of the way. Ben shouldered past the circle of onlookers and stepped between Rey and Hux, pushing him backward. “This is a bad idea, Hux. Just leave now and don’t make it any worse.”

“I can take care of myself!” Rey protested, tugging at Ben’s shirt. ”I want to wipe that smirk off his face.” 

Ben threw his arm out to keep Rey behind him and inadvertently palmed her hip, warm through the thin cotton of her dress. “If you hit him, they’ll throw you out,” he warned. “And you don’t want to miss this. He’s not worth it.” 

Rey sagged against his side. “You’re right. Shit.”

“I’ll do it.” Ben pushed her gently away and made a fist. 

“Both of you, step off,” Jessika spat. “After what he called me, I get first dibs.”

“HEY!” The lead singer’s amplified shout blew out the speakers with squealing feedback. Every ear in the bar rang and all eyes snapped to her at centre stage. “Looks like some of you haven't heard about Starkiller’s policy: absolutely no homophobic fucknuggets at our shows.” Haloed by spotlights like an avenging angel, she pointed directly at Hux. “So _you_ can leave right now, or the bouncer will throw you out. Your choice.”

Jessika stared up at the stage enthralled, her eyes as wide as satellite dishes. The singer winked and Jess blew her a kiss.

“This is amazing,” Rey breathed. “I love this band.”

Hux’s face folded into a sneer and he turned to leave, but he couldn’t resist shoving Ben’s shoulder as he passed. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Same to you," Ben said amiably. “I’ll be talking to Sensei Kanata about whether she wants you back in her dojo.”

“You’re amazing too,” Rey said, looping her arms around him from behind and squeezing. Ben’s ears radiated heat with the force of his blush.

 

By the time the last encore faded out, all five of them were tilted well over to the drunk side of tipsy—Rey had insisted on buying several rounds to celebrate—and cheerfully smug about Hux’s defeat. They left the bar together except for Jessika, who was waiting for the blonde goddess in the firm expectation of getting lucky, or at least a phone number. 

Finn and Poe hailed a cab and Rey hung back, stumbling over her words as she tried to say good-bye to Ben. 

“Thanks for everything. I mean it. You were great and I’m glad I met you.” She went on tiptoe to press a kiss to Ben’s cheek, but he moved his head (or her balance was impaired) and her lips touched the soft border of his mouth instead. The sensation buzzed through her like a jolt of static electricity. She wanted more. 

“Get a room, you two,” Poe heckled through the cab window. 

“Quit shoving your heterosexuality in our faces,” Finn shouted as it pulled away.

Ben was staring down at her, his expression somewhere between pole-axed and scarred for life. She swallowed hard. “How about a real goodnight kiss? For practice?”

He cupped her hips in his warm hands, pulled her closer, and kissed her long, slow, and dirty. Rey’s spine wilted inch by inch until she melted into his body; her hands fisted in his hair might have been the only thing keeping her upright. Hux could have been standing right next to them, yelling, and she wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Best fake boyfriend ever,” she breathed, trying to pull away and give him space. Ben’s hands only tightened at her waist. “Are there Yelp reviews for that? Because I’d give you five stars.”

He tipped his head down to rest his forehead against hers. “I was hoping you’d return the favor and come to my parents’ July Fourth cookout. My mom hasn’t gotten off my case about being single since last Thanksgiving.”

Rey couldn’t stop grinning, her cheeks stretched helplessly wide. “Wow, meeting the parents, that’s a big step in any fake relationship. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“I also have a rule: at least two fake dates before sex,” he told her mock-seriously, with a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, as long as the sex is real, count me in.”

Ben smiled, displaying actual goddamned dimples that ought to be illegal in most states, and Rey pulled herself up by his shoulders to kiss them. And then kiss him again. And again.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Twentyone Pilots song “Tear in My Heart”.
> 
> And apologies to Hux fans; I don’t have anything against him personally, but this trope demands a villain.
> 
> If you’re curious, here’s how I envision their musical tastes.  
> Rey: female-focused power pop & electronica (think Tegan & Sara, Liz Phair, Metric, Alvvays)  
> Ben: the mopier variety of singer-songwriter (Bon Iver, M Ward, Sun Kil Moon, Iron & Wine)


End file.
